The East and the EisBär
by didyouknowanon
Summary: Prussia makes a new friend and learns the joys of owning a Polar Bear. Prussia and Knut have more in common than they seem. Prussia/Knut crack!fic. Or maybe not.


**The East and the Eisb_ä_****_r_**

**_-  
_**

Prussia is a man. A _man's_ man. Heck, if Gilbert were any_ manlier_, he would spontaneously sprout a second Y chromosome, go and build himself yet another Beer-Hall and then kill and cook his own cow. The reason for this is that Gilbert is awesome. His awesomeness obviously simply translates directly into testosterone and a _win_ of a level that Austria- poncy little Roderich with his Bishop-Princes and Chopin and _Mozart_- could never even come close to attaining.

Yes. Prussia is indeed a fine male specimen.

None of this, however, comes close to explaining why he's knelt over in his own little corner babbling sickening baby talk out of his mouth.

"…Hey there, little dude. Was that a yawn, sleepy head? You wanna belly rub? I think you do- _yes_ you _do_, _yes you do_-"

"Gilbert." Austria stands behind him, arms folded and coat tails swishing in the wind. "…What on _earth_ are you doing?"

He freezes, sweating. Roderich doesn't wait for an answer and leans over his shoulder. Stares impassively. Shifts his gaze unblinkingly up to Prussia's motionless face, looks for a moment, then runs his eyes back down again.

"…Are you playing with a teddy bear?"

His comment seems to snap the Prussian to attention. "Are you _retarded_, Austria? Don't bother answering that." The brash, arrogant inflection of his eyebrows is somewhat blustered. "It's a frigging polar bear. You know, Kings of the North, metre long fangs- a fucking _maneater_."

A second glance confirms that the ball of fluff is, actually, alive. It yawns cutely and tumbles over onto its behind, letting out a squeak. Austria's unimpressed gaze speaks volumes.

"_What_?" Prussia turns and stands eye to furious eye with his neighbour. "What're you trying to say?" He lifts the poor animal up by the front paws, brandishing it in front of him as to make a point. "His mother's got post-natal depression or something, so _Vati_ Gilbert's gonna look after him. He's gonna be the most mind-blowingly ferocious _Eis-Bär_ there is- isn't that right _Knutchen_?"

Knut squeaks in response.

"Are you sure that this is a good idea, Prussia?" Austria remarks, lifting an eyebrow. "I don't think you're capable of looking after a living thing other than yourself."

"Don't take that shit, Knut!" Prussia sneers at him, dismissive. "Bite him! Bite that poopy, meanie Austrian! _Bite_!"

Roderich leaves. He really, _really_ has better things to be doing than this.

-

Knut's fur is a colourless white-blond, his nose a single back coal perched at the end of his adorable snout. He drinks milk from his bottle and squirms in Prussia's hands when he picks him up to push his face against his belly.

Even Prussia's manliness can't withstand such powerful, tooth rotting cuteness. So of course, Germany can't resist his little carnivore either.

"That's utterly ridiculous," he splutters when he sees him wrestling with the cub on his bed. "You're denying that bear a proper upbringing. It needs less contact with human beings."

"_He_ needs nothing of the sort." Prussia props the cub up on the bed and grins as it gazes wobbly at Ludwig towering over them. _Adorably_.

"…" As the older brother, Prussia knows exactly what each of Germany's silences mean, and this shaky pause in which a slow flush spreads over Ludwig's trembling cheeks means that he's smitten, even if he'll never admit it.

"…This…This won't end well, mark my words." Heck yeah. His brother's hands are just itching to pick little Knut up. But Ludwig runs before he can give in, walking briskly off, still blushing.

Score one to the East, Prussia thinks. Can he get any more awesome?

-

The months pass, and Knut's become a celebrity. Japan visits with his camera-stands silently in the corner of the room and a vague sort of smile on his face. Italy traipses through the house- both of them- and the North coos like a dove while the South reluctantly admits that he's kind of cute. America bursts into superlatives when he sees him, and even Arthur picks him up and pokes his nose.

Visitor numbers to Berlin Zoo explode through the roof. Throughout it all Prussia laughs and boasts and his heart melts several times a day at the rapidly growing cub. Knut snuffles happily, enjoying the attention more and more.

Germany is worried about Knut, or so he says. _It's not natural_. But Ludwig, Prussia knows, is just jealous.

-

"Look, Kumajirou! Another bear just like you!" There's a youngish man in oval glasses standing at the enclosure. Gilbert thinks he's seen him before somewhere.

"Who the hell are you?"

"_Canada!_ How many times…Wait a second." He peers at him short-sightedly with a puzzled expression on his face. "You're not Germany."

"How could you mistake me for Germany? I'm friggin' Prussia."

The two of them stand in awkward silence for a while, trying and failing to recall whom the other actually is. It's broken by a cynical kind of drawl from their legs.

There's a _fucking polar bear_ sitting between them, and it's sure as hell not Knut. 'Well I don't know who the heck either of you are,' it says rather baldly.

The bear is talking to them. Prussia jumps back, expecting black magic or hallucination or similar, but before he or Canada can respond there's a new, whiny sort of teenage voice from behind them. 'He's _Germany_. Germany loves me, yes?'

Gilbert feels some large part of his brain die in shock. "The _Fuck_?"

'The _Fuck_?' Knut imitates diligently. _Wait_. He's _imitating_ him.

"Shit- don't say that Knut. You're not meant to say crap like that." Never mind talking bears- Gilbert doesn't want to be a bad parent.

'Shit?' Knut copies along in a sing-song voice, cocking his white head. '…More people love Knut now? Food time now? Love Knut?'

He tries, but somehow Gilbert gets the feeling that he's going to need a bit more practice.

-

'Oi, Germany.'

Gilbert snarls. "I'm _not Germany_. You're a forgetful, ungrateful bastard, you little piece of crap."

'-And you're a fucking _dip-shit_, you know that? Give me my effing food.' Knut gives as good as he gets. Despite this, Gilbert still has to look at him, to pat his matted white fur and poke his nose while he sleeps, because he's just so _cute_. "You listening to me, Germany?"

_Fuck_, Gilbert thinks. It can't be _that_ hard to remember his name.

As far as polar-bear expressions go, Knut's creeping grin is proud, savage and predatory in a way that's more than unsettlingly familiar. 'That Flocke chick's pretty hot. Get your brother to bring her up for a bit of action, eh?'

Nuremberg's newest famous daughter is still just a cub (he used to be that cute. He used to, Prussia thinks wistfully) and Gilbert's pretty sure that Ludwig doesn't approve of polar-paedophilia. When he tells his bear to shut up like a responsible parent, he sneers at him.

'Oh come on. _I'm Knut_. They'll do something for me. Don't be a kill-joy.'

Something in Gilbert snaps as he hears that. He stands tall and stiffens in rage and spits at the hulking mass of fur and muscle on his couch. "_Verdammt nochmal, du Scheissdrek_! Listen to yourself, you _arrogant_, selfish, self-absorbed-"

'-That's the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?'

Gilbert has no words to say. He hovers for a moment, then slams the food down on the floor and stalks off. Knut watches him leave with empty eyes.

-

"West?"

"Hmm?"

"…Am I arrogant? Be honest."

The pause that hangs between them lasts longer than it is. Ludwig doesn't meet his eye, but he eventually sighs.

"Yes."

"…"

"I've known that my entire life, Gilbert." His brother's voice is gruff but surprisingly gentle, and the smile he shoots him is wryly heartfelt. "And it's never made any difference to me."

-

'Look at me! Look at me, you pack of ungrateful pricks! No- _yes, YES, _that's it, ME- NO! NOT THE FUCKING PENGUINS, _DU VERSHISSENER DUMMKOPF_!'

Knut stands on his rock and bellows at the people filing past his enclosure. They're not here to see him anymore. He's not their little _Eis-Bär_, and it hurts. But if he keeps yelling loud enough, they'll have to listen to him. They'll _have_ to notice him.

From the keeper's platform Prussia stands and watches, saying nothing.

'_Stop_!' The growls become more and more desperate as the day wears on. Knut doesn't stop to eat. 'Stop and look at me! Don't forget me! Don't forget me, you bastards!'

The last visitor leaves and the zoo is cast into silence. The bear stands there, staring out at where the people should be queuing to see him. He falls onto his haunches and whimpers. It's a pitiful sound.

"We're going home, you idiot," Prussia says unfeelingly as he approaches. The polar bear curses under his breath.

'I'm not going.' He sounds like a petulant child.

"Knut. Come on."

Knut laughs humourlessly at him. 'Nobody knows me anymore. They all think I'm Flocke, or that I'm just part of the rest of the fucking zoo. No one even knows that I exist." His lowered head is a picture of pride, prickly but largely irrelevant. '_I used to be the best around here_. I used to be the biggest, cutest, most popular one in this entire country, and now I'm not important any more. Of course you don't understand.'

Prussia swallows the lump in his throat. Matthew had told him something once, about America and Canada and polar bears. Canada's not America. But, then again, neither is Gilbert Ludwig, even if Knut keeps mistaking them. Even if, to the rest of the world in the 21th century, there _is_ no difference between them.

"You're wrong. I understand _exactly_." He stands and walks away from the polar bear with the white-blond hair that sulks for power gone. "Grow up and fucking get over yourself."

* * *

_Proudly the fandom's only Prussia/Knut fanfiction since April 2009._

Did you know?

I gave Knut to Gilbert, because Berlin is located primarily in what used to be Prussia. And also for the lol factor.

Flocke, Germany's second such polar bear in a zoo, lives in Nuremberg and is a girl. She's also turned into a tourist puller, but I believe that authorities are trying not to over market her.

Knut, who was originally abandoned by his mother, became Berlin Zoo's biggest attraction. However, the fact that he had received constant human attention gave him some psychological problems- I have read different views, some which say he doesn't realise that he's a bear and not a human, and some which say he's a psychopath.

"Prussia" does not exist in Germany. It is present instead as Brandenburg and some other states in the North East, but his name is not recognised in modern German geography.

To many foreigners, the difference between the East and the West is hard to see. To Germans, this difference is probably highlighted a bit too much.

Vati- daddy  
Eis-Bar- Polar bear/ Ice bear  
Knutchen- a form of endearment; basically 'Knuti-wooti' etc.


End file.
